


Anonymity

by Callaeidae3, lechaton17



Series: Late Night Spontaneous Fic Writing [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Death Threats, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Post Season 7, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Team as Family, Threats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-10-17 13:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callaeidae3/pseuds/Callaeidae3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechaton17/pseuds/lechaton17
Summary: Keith's been acting a bit odd since recovering from his injuries (post season 7). Shiro's concerned, worrying that it might have something to do with him not spending as much time with Keith as he used to, so he goes after Keith to find out what's wrong.It turns out there's something much bigger at hand that neither of them should have to think about.





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey Keith,” Shiro murmurs, sitting down in the seat opposite. It’s early morning at the Garrison - earlier even for a military institute - so it’s just the two of them in the cafeteria hall. “How’s the head doing these days?”

Keith deliberately avoids making eye contact. “It’s fine. Still get headaches from time to time, but it’s nothing.”

Shiro takes a sip of his coffee. “I wouldn’t call it nothing, Keith. It’s okay to take the time to heal. I know it can be frustrating, but you all went through a lot. I just don’t want you to push yourself too much.”

Frowning, Keith grips his spoon a little tighter than necessary. If Shiro had been looking closer, he’d have seen the metal bend in Keith’s fingers. But it’s the flare of emotion in his eyes that has Shiro distracted, and he sets down the cup of coffee with care not to accidently startle Keith.

“Is something wrong?” Shiro asks quietly. “Besides the headaches, I mean?”

Keith grimaces. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You can talk to me if there’s anything bothering y-”

“I’m fine, Shiro. Can you please just….not right now?”

Shiro closes his mouth, gripping his coffee cup. He studies Keith, able to see how tense Keith’s muscles are. The dark circles under his eyes. The way that Keith can’t look him in the eye. It’s clear that Keith is anything but okay, but Shiro doesn’t want to push Keith away.

Shiro clears his throat. “Are you busy today? We can do something if you want. We can head to the training room and get some practice in. We really haven’t been able to do anything together in a while.”

Though he looks like he’s on the verge of pushing his chair back, ditching the remaining few spoonfuls of breakfast and abruptly leaving, Keith doesn’t move. Shiro can see the gears moving in his head as he thinks, debates...argues with himself.

 _Better not rush him,_ Shiro thinks, and does his best to keep his body language relaxed and non-intruding. While he waits for Keith to decide how he wants to answer, Shiro turns his attention back on the coffee in front of him.

A couple minutes pass, and Keith finally answers. “Okay,” he says, and Shiro looks up from the coffee. Keith still doesn’t look at him, but his shoulders have sagged a bit. Shiro can’t help but feel a bit guilty. He should have offered to hang out with Keith sooner, but he’d been kept busy with work and just hadn’t had the time. The way Keith is acting now remind Shiro of the Keith he first met all those years ago, hiding behind walls he’d built to protect himself.

“Great,” Shiro replies, forcing a smile through his guilt. “It’ll be like old times.”

And just like that, Keith’s defenses are up again. This time he’s not even letting Shiro in. But before the question of why can be raised, Keith finishes off his meal and stands.

“‘Course it will be,” he mutters, and Shiro doesn’t fail to miss the way his voice catches.

Keith’s shoulders are hunched as he walks away from the table to return his dishes to the kitchen. He keeps his head down, no doubt in a habitual attempt to hide his eyes but not neglecting to listen out for danger that could approach from any direction around him.

...danger. Keith doesn’t regard Shiro as a danger, does he? Is the reason why Keith’s acting a little off because of what happened at the cloning facility? Or is it something else - and if so, what?

Keith and Shiro really had never had the chance to talk about what had happened at the cloning facility. They’d been too focused on their fights against the Galra and getting to Earth. Keith and Shiro hadn’t had the chance to talk about anything, really. Anything could be going on inside Keith’s head, especially after the bad knock to the head he suffered when the Lions fell.

 _“Course it will be.”_ What did Keith mean by those words?

Shiro quickly finishes his coffee - it’s not quite cooled down as much as he’d have like it to have, but oh well - and goes to ask Keith about it...only to find that Keith’s nowhere to be found.

He’s already left the cafeteria hall.

People start wandering in. Shiro forces back his worry about Keith to flash them a smile, but as soon as those who greet him have moved on, that smile quickly falls again. There’s only one thought on his mind and it’s chewing at his conscience.

Keith’s not doing okay, is he?

Keith’s nowhere to be seen outside the cafeteria; he must have ran. Shiro takes a deep breath and tries to think where Keith might have gone. He doesn’t want to push him too much, but he also doesn’t want Keith to be alone right now. Keith is his brother, and has saved Shiro more times than he can count. Shiro wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Keith.

The Garrison is huge, and Keith could be anywhere. _T_ _hink, Shiro. Think._ Early morning. Wanting to be alone. Not wanting to be found - most likely, knowing Keith….

But does Shiro even really know him anymore? When was the last time they actually _talked?_ Maybe it’s just his memory failing him, renewed PTSD and spirit-transfer-into-clone-body making him forget, but somehow Shiro can’t remember them having any one-on-one conversation since...since the fight with Zarkon.

When Shiro died.

Without really thinking twice about, Shiro started jogging down the corridors. His heart is racing, as are his thoughts. After everything Keith had been through - not just before he met Shiro, but after as well - how could anyone just be okay after that? Shiro should have been keeping an eye on him. He should have reached out. He should know better.

Krolia and Kolivan had already left on a Blade mission. Lance, Pidge and Hunk had their families, Allura had Coran and Romelle, but who did Keith have?

Shiro.

But Shiro had been too busy with his work to even talk to Keith. He’d left Keith when he went to Kerberos. He left Keith when he died in his battle against Zarkon. And without meaning to, he’d basically left Keith again.

How could he not have noticed?

Going through the logical process of elimination, Shiro first stops by Keith’s allocated room. He nearly collides with Allura coming out of her room on the way, skidding to a halt barely in time to stop his momentum from bowling her over.

“Shiro!” Allura exclaims, eyes wide. “Is something the matter?”

Shiro is out of breath from running. “Allura,” he gasps, trying to catch his breath enough to speak. “Have you...have you seen Keith by chance?”

Allura frowns at him. “I haven’t seen him yet today, I’ve just woken up a little bit ago. Why, did something happen?”

Shiro’s heart continues to race. _A lot of things had happened._ “I just...I’m worried about him. Can you let the others know that I’m looking for him, and to get in contact with me if anyone sees him?”

Allura looks even more alarmed, but she nods. “Of-of course. I’ll tell them right away.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, and turns to continue his way to Keith’s room.

“Shiro!” she calls, stopping him. “I know that he likes to go to the roof, sometimes. He likes to sit up there.”

“The roof?”

“I’ve seen him up there a few times, when Romelle and I have been taking night walks to look at the stars. He probably goes up there in the daytime, too. I’m not sure.”

Shiro nods, forcing himself to stay calm. Keith always preferred solitude over crowds, but he doesn’t isolate himself like he used to. If he’s been up on the rooftop at night, he’s probably been stargazing, and during the day Shiro imagines that up there would be a decent place to clear the mind and think in peace.

The last time Keith had admitted to having a lot on his mind, though, it was on their way to the Blade of Marmora headquarters. Keith had been having suspicions about his Galra lineage before they’d even left the Castle.

In other words, whatever is on Keith’s mind is definitely something serious or bothering at least.

He checks Keith’s room first. There’s no answer when he knocks. He opens the door and finds the room deserted, the bed unmade. Shiro had hoped that perhaps he would find Keith here, though if he was honest he wasn’t expecting to. Keith would know that Shiro would look for him here first. Shiro’s heart clenches with worry. He has no other leads on where Keith might be, so he decides that he will go to the roof like Allura said. He backs out of Keith’s room, and again is running down the hallway.  

 _Would Keith have gone to Black?_ Shiro wonders as he hunts down the nearest stairwell. The Lions won’t fit it any Garrison hangar, and it’s too far a run to the hangars available to them in the Atlas, so the Lions are sitting outside at the west end of the Garrison complex. But wouldn’t the Black Lion be too obvious a hiding spot?

Shiro flings the stairwell door open. He takes the steps two at a time, quickly making it up one flight, two fights, three flights of stairs. He’s out of breath when he gets to the top, and he has to pause before he heads outside. Shiro wracks his brain for ideas on where to look next if Keith’s not somewhere up here.

With a deep breath, Shiro pushes open the door leading to the roof. The sun hits him, temporarily blinding him. It had just barely made it over the mountains, casting the grounds in golden morning light. The air is warm, not yet hot, and there is silence aside from Shiro’s gasping breaths. For a moment Shiro understands why someone might want to escape up here to clear their head. If he wasn’t so worried about Keith, he’d realize everything looked quite beautiful up here. But instead he steps out onto the roof and gazes around, his thoughts only on looking for Keith.

He’s not here.

Shiro sighs exasperatedly. He’s beginning to feel hopeless. He knows that Keith can’t hide away for ever, and sooner or later Shiro will find him. But Shiro feels this sense of urgency. He needs to find Keith now. He’s filled with unease. He feels like if he doesn’t find Keith right now, something bad will happen. He isn’t sure why he feels this way, but he does. And he wants to make sure nothing bad actually happens.

_Black._

Shiro can’t be sure, but something in his heart tells him to go to the Black Lion. He tries to argue with it, telling himself that the Black Lion’s too obvious a hiding place if Keith wanted to be away from everybody. If anyone were looking for him and couldn’t find him, the Black Lion is where they’d go….and if Shiro were looking for him, as he is now, then there’s really no hiding at all.

But what if he’s not hiding at all? What if he wants to be found, to have someone to talk to, just doesn’t have anyone around who he trusts enough to be able to open up to?

Shiro turns his back on the sunrise and heads back down the stairs, running. It’ll take him a few minutes to get to the west end of the Garrison, but he pushes himself to run as fast as he can. He dodges people and questioning faces and curious remarks, his mind only focused on getting to Keith. He feels in his heart that he’s getting closer to Keith. He hopes that Keith will wait there long enough for Shiro to make it to him.

He’s getting closer to Keith, but he’s never felt so far away.

 _A lift from Kosmo would be great right now,_ Shiro thinks. The cosmic wolf’s probably with Keith at the moment, though - no doubt that’s how Keith got away so fast. With a cosmic wolf though, Keith could’ve gone anywhere. Shiro knows he and Krolia went to visit Keith’s Dad the other week, and Shiro wouldn’t put it past Keith to have gone back to his shack in the middle of the desert. There’s also the possibility he went back to the cave where the Blue Lion had been, but somehow that seems unlikely.

He’ll be kicking himself if Keith had just gone to the bathroom or something. All this fuss, when -

The Black Lion crouches and opens its jaw as Shiro reaches the end of the building. Shiro’s still a few hundred metres of tarmac away from her, but she stays as is and waits patiently. Black’s behaviour is all Shiro needs to know that he’s in the right place. He can feel her coaxing him forward.

Shiro enters the Black Lion. All is silent, but he knows Keith is there. Shiro makes his way to the cockpit, out of breath and shaking with exhaustion from running. He sees Kosmo before he sees Keith. Kosmo is sitting next to the pilot’s seat. He perks his head up and looks at Shiro, studying him. Something in the wolf’s gaze tells Shiro that Kosmo wanted him to be there, just as much as Black did.

As for Keith…

Inhaling slowly to steady his breathing, Shiro quietly approaches the pilot’s seat and lays his human hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Hey,” he murmurs, crouching down. “What’s up?”

Keith keeps his head bowed. His knees are drawn up to his chin, arms wrapped around them. Keith’s fingers dig into the red material of his new uniform. His hair conceals his facial expression from view but Keith’s body language and the tension in his shoulders expresses enough.

“Keith,” Shiro says, keeping his voice calm and steady even though his heart hurts. He sits down on the floor, patting Kosmo’s head. He doesn’t say anything else for a couple minutes, and neither does Keith. Keith doesn’t move or acknowledge Shiro at all.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says at last, his voice shaking slightly.

Keith moves then, lifting his eyes just enough to peer at Shiro. He looks confused. “You’re sorry? For what?”

Shiro isn’t sure where to begin. “I haven’t been here for you. I’ve barely even seen you at all lately.”

Swallowing audibly, Keith hides his face again. “You’ve been busy.”

“That’s not really a good excuse though, is it? Even when I was busy preparing for the Kerberos mission, I made time for you. And when we were busy up in space fighting the Empire? A-and…”

Keith is silent.

“You see? I haven’t been around. I haven’t made time for you. I should’ve been - ”

“I’ve been getting death threats.”

Silence falls in the room. It chokes the air, leaving there hardly any room to breathe. Kosmo huffs out a breath and shuffles closer to Keith’s feet.

Shiro blinks, bewildered. “You...what?”

“They’re not just threats, either,” Keith mumbles, finally raising his head. His eyes are red and the skin beneath them bruised with sleep deprivation. “Last week someone poisoned my food. The stomach ache I’ve had all weekend? Yeah, that was because of that. It’s also why I make sure to eat before anyone else.”

Shiro tries to wrap his head around what Keith is saying. All he can do is stare at Keith for a moment, but he can tell that Keith is not lying, nor would Keith ever lie to him about something like this. As it dawns on Shiro what Keith is saying, his shock is replaced by a fierce need to protect Keith and find out what is going on.

“Do you have any idea who would be sending you death threats?” Shiro asks him. “Or why?”

Keith laughs without humor. “I mean, they saw my mother and Kolivan. It’s not exactly a secret who I am…what I am.”

“Who you are is the leader of Voltron, and someone who almost died saving this entire facility,” Shiro insists. “They - whoever ‘they’ is or are - have no right to be judging you by the race of your mother.”

“I mean…  I don’t blame them. The people who attacked this planet were Galra. Sendak’s recent attack? Galra. The people who enslaved countless civilians to build weapons meant for destroying this very planet? Galra. Seeing the Blade of Marmora around can’t be easy. I might not look Galra, but I don’t blame people for being uneasy around me either, now that they know.”

“Keith, being uneasy is no reason to go harming someone and threatening to harm them further.”

“I mean that’s what the Galra did, isn’t it?” Keith replies, standing up and moving away from Shiro, facing away from him. “The Galra came here and attacked for no good reason. And it’s not like I was the nicest guy last time I was here anyway.”

“Keith,” Shiro says firmly, staying where he is even though he wants to reach out to Keith. “There is nothing you have done to warrant death threats or harm. Whoever is doing this needs to be stopped. I will not stand by and let someone do this to you.”

Keith digs his hands into his pockets. Both Shiro and Kosmo watch him carefully.

“Do you know who is doing this?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll find them. Let’s go talk to Sam and Iverson - they might at least have an idea of who the troublemakers are, or know someone else who does.”

Keith grunts. “And have the whole entire Garrison think that the leader of Voltron is that untrusting? They wouldn’t be wrong, no. But this isn’t just about me, Shiro. Voltron’s reputation is at stake here, too. I’m not much of a leader if I’m putting the rest of my team at a disadvantage or...or burdening them with stuff that’s my own issues to deal with.”

“What affects you affects the entire team,” Shiro murmurs, standing up too. “Remember that conversation we had with Griffin about how Voltron understands but doesn’t operate in the chain-of-command mindset? We’re a team. We support each other, and that means none of us are going to sit by and do nothing while one of our own suffer unjustly.”

“Better one person than the whole team though, right?”

“You’re not just part of a team, Keith,” Shiro reminds him. “We’re your family. What if someone was threatening Lance, or Pidge? What if someone was threatening me? Would you just standby and do nothing?”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“How is it not the same?” Shiro challenges.

“Because-” Keith sighs in frustration, his shoulders slouching. He stares at his feet, and Shiro steps forward, placing his hand on Keith’s shoulder.

Shiro can feel the pain inside of Keith. Keith has always struggled with his self-worth, always questioning whether he is good enough. Shiro had seen him grow a lot since they had first met. But some of those feelings never go away. They will always haunt Keith, too ingrained in his soul by everything he has gone through. But that’s why Shiro is there, to remind Keith as many times as he needs that his life is worth as much as any other.

“Have there been any other threats or incidents happening,” Shiro asks quietly. “Besides the poisoning your food?”

Keith closes his eyes. “Yeah. I thought it was just that the food was bad at first. That’s why I didn’t bring it up with anybody - you’d all have likely just dismissed it as food poisoning and told me to just wait it out, let it pass.

“But a few days before I got sick...there was a note slipped under my pillow. It was sticking out, meant for me to find it. I didn’t see it because I hadn’t turned the light on, but I felt it when I went to put my knife under my pillow like I always do…”

“And what did it say?” Shiro prompts.

Keith clenches a fist. He doesn’t reply, only pulls his hand out of his pocket and presents Shiro with a crumpled up piece of paper. Nervously, Shiro takes it and smooths it out until he can read the aggressively drawn lines scrawled onto the page.

_‘GALRA we will kill you like you killed our families’_

Shiro reads the message twice, and feels anger in the pit of his stomach. “Do you recognize this handwriting at all?”

Keith shakes his head. “I don’t know who wrote it. It could be anyone.”

Shiro doesn’t recognize the handwriting either, but perhaps Iverson would. “I think that we should take this note to Iverson.”

Keith still looks uncomfortable. “I don’t want to make a big ordeal out of nothing.”

“This isn’t nothing, Keith,” Shiro says seriously. “This isn’t to be taken lightly. If they’ve already tried harming you once, who knows what they might do next.”

To that, Keith has no argument. His brow furrows and he grimaces.

“You okay if we do that now? I don’t think we should wait around.”

“Yeah...alright then.”

Shiro massages Keith’s shoulder once and removes his hand. “Thank you. Let’s head back then.” He starts walking towards the cockpit doors then stops when he realises that Keith’s not following. “Keith?”

“Oh, it’s just...Kosmo’s been taking me…” Keith’s face screws up in frustration and with a shake of his head, he marches out the door past Shiro. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Shiro hesitates. “Keith?”

“It’s fine, Shiro. I’ve just been a bit paranoid lately.”

Kosmo materialises in the doorway and hurries after Keith with a whine. Shiro frowns and follows, quickly catching up to the other two. Keith’s voice is far too tight for him to be simply paranoid.

“Do you think someone’s been watching you?” Shiro asks as they walk down the ramp.The sunlight is so bright compared to the Black Lion, he has to squint to see Keith’s expression.

The corner of Keith’s mouth turns downward. “I’m not sure. I mean, if they have, I haven’t seen the-”

His voice cuts off with a grunt. Just as another whistle tears through the air - a sound Shiro had failed to hear before - there’s a blinding flash and the three of them are teleported back inside the Black Lion’s cockpit.

Shiro turns on his heel, confused by what just happened. He goes to ask Keith, and realizes that Keith is on the floor, grasping his right shoulder, his body trembling. Shiro’s mind is a whirlwind of confusion and fear, and his fear multiplies when he sees blood seeping through Keith’s fingers.

“Keith!” Shiro gasps, bending down. Keith’s eyes are shut tight, and he answers Shiro with a groan. Shiro tries to get a better look at Keith’s shoulder, but Keith cries out in pain. Something-someone-did this. It must have been a long-range shot of some kind, because Shiro hadn’t seen anyone in the vicinity. He’ll worry about that later- for now he has to focus on getting Keith help.

“Kosmo,” Shiro says, and Kosmo looks at him, already on alert. “We need to get Keith to the medical wing.”

The wolf looks uncertain at first, but when a brief look of concentration crosses Keith’s face, thoughts projecting, Kosmo moves so that he’s touching both Shiro and Keith and flashes them into the Garrison.

They’re deposited in the middle of the hallway. Someone trips over Keith’s back and Keith bites back a scream. A concerned man in a hazmat backs out of the room he was about to enter a little further up the hallway and comes jogging towards them. It takes Shiro a moment to snap out of his shock to realise it’s Sam.

“Whoa, what happened?” Sam exclaims, hastily removing his headgear. He drops it onto the floor and crouches down beside Keith. “When did this…?”

“Just now,” Keith grits out. He’s still got a hand clenched in Kosmo’s fur, but the wolf doesn’t seem to mind.

Shiro forces himself to be present. “S-someone shot him. I think. We were outside, coming out of Black.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of blood for a gunshot wound,” he murmurs. “Are you sure - “

“It’s an old wound,” Shiro explains quickly. “One that never really healed properly.”

Keith’s left hand is shaking where it grips his shoulder. “Luxite does that, apparently.”

Sam looks a little confused, brow furrowed as though he’s trying to recall what luxite is and where he’s heard the term before. But he doesn’t linger on trying to remember, instead slips an arm under Keith’s torso and hefts him up in his arms.

“I’ll take him in,” Sam says. “Shiro, go find Iverson and let him know what’s happened. This is serious.”

Shiro doesn’t get to choose. Keith glances at him over Sam’s shoulder as he’s carried away, and then his eyes flick towards Kosmo. Before Shiro can run from the wolf, he’s teleported away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...to be continued :)


	2. Chapter 2

With a flash, Shiro lands on the ground next to Kosmo. Shiro is dazed, his heart racing as fast as his thoughts. His hands shake as he tries to get to his feet. He’s distracted by his worry for Keith and how quickly everything had happened. He can barely process everything going on, and yet he needs to pull himself together. Kosmo deposited him right in front of Iverson’s door.

Shiro raises his shaking fist to knock on the door. He sees Keith’s blood on his hand and has to give himself a moment to breathe. _Everything will be okay. Keith will be okay. You need to tell Iverson what is going on, so we can catch the people responsible. Pull it together._

He knocks on Iverson’s door, but he’s too full of worry and adrenaline to wait for a response and opens it. “Sir, we have a situa- ”

The office is empty. The window blinds are still closed, the desk tidy and bare of folders, notes and paper. Only then does Shiro remember what time it is and that Iverson’s probably getting breakfast right now. Shiro curls his hands into fists and breathes deep.

Chasing down Iverson could mean alerting whoever’s threatening Keith of the fact that they’re about to start looking for them. The person would probably be anticipating it already, really, which means they’re already one step ahead of Shiro and Keith finding out who they are. If they’re good at acting too, this is going to be a mission in its own right.

The culprit could be a cadet, a civilian, an officer, a general, a _nurse…_

Sam might be with Keith at the moment, but all it would take is for him to step out of the room a minute for something bad to happen. Something bad has already happened. Shiro’s not taking any chances.

“Kosmo,” Shiro says, turning to the wolf. “Go back to Keith and wait by his side. I don’t want him left alone.”

He’s not sure that the wolf understands him; Shiro doesn’t have the kind of bond that Keith does with him. But Kosmo studies him a moment and disappears with a flash, so Shiro hopes he understood.

Shiro tries to walk towards the cafeteria without bringing attention to himself. He looks all around him as he walks, looking for anyone who could possibly acting suspicious. Anyone and everyone is a suspect in his mind right now, and it’s making him feel extremely on edge. Earlier he had run through these very halls, drawing attention to himself and not even thinking that Keith’s hiding himself away could have been to do with avoiding threats.

The person he’s looking for could be anywhere by now. They’re probably making a point of concealing themselves right now. Either that, or they’re a mighty good actor and they’re doing a great job at being inconspicuous. Shiro contemplates checking the rooftop for them and decides against it. Whoever shot at Keith won’t be trying to get caught.

Shiro makes his way into the cafeteria, scanning around for Iverson, but before he can find him, someone calls his name. Shiro turns to see Allura running towards him; Pidge, Hunk, Lance, Romelle and Coran are all with her as well, and all of them look alert and worried despite the early morning hour. Shiro had already forgotten he’d run into Allura and asked her to get in contact with the rest of the team.

“Did you find him?” Allura asks as Shiro meets them. “None of us have seen him yet today.”

Shiro realizes they don’t know what happened to Keith. Of course they don’t - Kosmo brought them straight in. He doesn’t want to have to explain it to them right now when his thoughts are a mess, but he knows he has to.

But he also doesn’t want to tell them in the middle of the cafeteria either. “Yes,” he answers. “I found Keith.”

Something must show on his face, though. “Is he okay?” Pidge asks with a frown.

Shiro grimaces. There’s too much to explain and it’ll take too long to get past everyone’s questions. Instead of answering Pidge with words, he raises his hand - the hand with Keith’s blood on it - and unfurls his fingers.

Everyone’s faces go blank, but their expressions morph into concern, anxiousness and anger within seconds. Shiro cuts them off with a sharp shake of his head and warning look. He closes his hand, hiding the blood on his palm and the side of his hand against his side.

“Not here,” he says curtly.

They get the picture. With wordless agreement, the team navigate their way to the nearest meeting room and file inside. Lance comes in last and shuts the door behind him with a firm shove.

Shiro gets straight to the point. “Keith’s not safe. Someone shot at him. Reopened that shoulder wound he got during the Trials. Sam’s with him in the medical wing right now but that’s not going to stop whoever shot at him from trying again.”

Shiro’s met with shocked expressions, and then a wave of questions.

“Someone shot him?”

“Is he okay?”

“What do you mean, not safe?”

“Who shot him?”

Shiro raises a hand to quiet them, and they fall silent, though Shiro can see their worry and fury on their faces.

“I don’t know who shot at him,” he answers. “But Keith was just telling me that he’s been receiving threats from someone. Apparently someone feels that because Keith is half-Galra, he deserves to be killed. Someone left him a death threat a few days ago, and then when he was sick it was due to someone poisoning his food...we were just on our way to tell Iverson about the threats when the bullet hit him.”

There is silence again as the team takes in the information, and then Lance breaks it. “That’s ridiculous,” he says angrily. “Keith’s the leader of Voltron! Voltron stopped Sendak!”

Shiro grunts. “Keith _killed_ Sendak. I might’ve fought him hand-to-hand the most, but Keith’s the one who dealt the finishing blow.” _And saved my life._

“Shiro,” Hunk says. “You said he’s been receiving threats. If Keith doesn’t know who’s been leaving them, then...have they been leaving Keith notes or something? Otherwise Keith would know who’s doing this, right?”

Belatedly, Shiro remembers that he’d held onto the note that Keith had shown him in the Black Lion. With a stab of anxiousness, he thinks he must’ve dropped it, but by some miracle the note’s been stashed away in one of the side pockets of his pants. Shiro must’ve been too busy worrying about the blood soaking through the material on Keith’s shoulder to have realised he’d even put it there.

As he shows the note, Shiro says, “Keith said he found this under his pillow a few days before the poisoning incident. I-I think that might be why you’ve seen him up on the rooftop at night lately, Allura. He’s probably been too on edge to sleep in his own bed.”

Allura exchanges a look with Romelle. “We should have tried to talk to him,” she sighs guiltily. “I just figured he wanted some alone time, knowing how he is. I never thought….”

“I mean, none of us knew,” Lance said. “None of us noticed anything was wrong. It’s not your fault, Allura.”

“The only person at fault is the one who’s been doing this to Keith,” Shiro tells them, and he needs to hear it himself, as well. “But he’s not alone in this anymore.

“I still need to alert Iverson as to what’s happening, and see if we can get an identification on this handwriting. However, I’m sure whoever is doing this isn’t going to be easy to find. It could be anyone in this facility.

“One thing that we can do is make sure that Keith is not left alone until this person is caught. I know Keith won’t be too fond of the idea, but it’s important that he has someone with him at all times. Kosmo’s been with him, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another person watching his back.”

Pidge nudges her glasses further up her nose. “Even while he sleeps?”

“Just think of it as camping. Or a long mission, or a mission gone wrong or something.”

“Keith’s gonna love this idea _so_ much,” she mutters.

“Should we contact the Blades?” Hunk asks. “Maybe they can afford to let Krolia come back? Or Kolivan?”

“We can,” Shiro says, “though I’m not sure how long it will take to get in contact with them, nor how long it will take them to get back here. I’m sure Krolia would want to know, though.”

“Well, I can head up to the medical wing now if you’d like, Shiro,” Coran suggests. “I can sit with Keith while you find Iverson and let him know what’s going on.”

Shiro grins, though it’s a tired grin.The day’s barely begun and he already feels exhausted. “Thank you, Coran. I appreciate that.”

“I’ll go too!” Hunk offers.

“Alright,” Shiro says. “Pidge, will you see about getting a message to the Blades?”

“Of course,” she says.

“Where was Keith shot at?” Lance asks.

“As we were leaving the Black Lion,” Shiro replies. “Judging by the trajectory of the shot, I’m guessing whoever shot him was hiding up on the rooftop.”

“I can go check out the area, see if any clues were left behind?”

“And we can help!” Romelle says, referring to herself and Allura.

“And I will get in touch with Iverson.” Shiro sighs. Although everything going on feels like too much, it assures him to know that he isn’t alone in his worry for Keith. That _Keith_ isn’t alone in this worry.

Each tasked with a mission of sorts, the group starts leaving the room. Shiro stays where he is, brow furrowed and head spinning. He wants to go check on Keith, make sure he’s alright, and then there’s the matter of breakfast that the rest of the group likely hasn’t had a chance to have yet…

“Shiro? Are you alright?”

He blinks. Coran’s waiting by the door, holding it open with his foot stuck between the door and the door frame. The Altean regards Shiro with a concerned look.

“I’m fine,” Shiro says, not missing how much that short answer sounds like one Keith would give. “It’s just a lot to process.”

Coran nods. “Alright then. I’ll go on ahead.”

With Coran gone, it’s just Shiro in the room. With a heavy sigh, Shiro leans his weight against the back of a chair and takes a minute to recompose himself. When that minute’s up, he folds up the note with the death threat on it and tucks it away in his pocket again.

Taking a deep breath, he exits the room and goes in search of Iverson.

 

Keith strokes Kosmo’s fur, staring out the window as he rests. The wolf had appeared minutes after Keith had been taken into the medical wing and had refused to leave his side. Keith is glad for his presence, though, and eventually the medical staff had given up on trying to shoo him away.

The medics had stitched up his shoulder and wrapped it. Apparently, he was lucky and the bullet only grazed him; however he was unlucky in the fact that it just happened to hit the wound he had received at the Trials. They gave him some painkillers, and while they’ve helped a lot, his shoulder still aches.

Luckily Kosmo and Shiro had gotten him help quickly, and they had been able to stop the bleeding. Keith’s tired now though, but his mind is wide awake, his body tense, just waiting for another shot to come through the window and finish him off.

The door to his room opens. Kosmo lifts his head up, tensing his body, and Keith squeezes his fur. Coran and Hunk come into the room, and Kosmo relaxes. Keith relaxes slightly. Although Hunk and Coran are friendly faces, he isn’t sure if he has the energy to face them right now.

“Keith!” Hunk says, striding over to his bedside. Coran takes the other side. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Keith says automatically. “I’m guessing Shiro told you what happened.”

Keith feels a little pang in his heart, and he realizes he wishes that Shiro was there.

“He-he did,” Hunk said, a bit nervously.

Keith glances out the window again. Coran, who’s standing in front of it, seems to notice. He looks from Keith to the window. “Is the light bothering you? I can close the blinds,” Coran tells him.

“No, it’s fine,” Keith says, too embarrassed by his own fear. “Where is Shiro?” he asks, wanting to change the subject.

Hunk exchanges a glance with Coran. “He’s talking with Iverson. Letting him know what’s up so we can start tracking down this...this person.”

“Oh…”

“Shiro will probably be here straight after! We’ll keep you company ‘till then.”

Keith exhales slowly. Despite the circumstances, he’d rather be left alone. Kosmo is company enough and having so many people around, even if it’s just an extra two, is too much for him right now. He’s already too much on edge, reading Hunk and Coran’s body language as if they’re the ones he needs to be wary about.

“Are you alright?” Coran asks hesitantly.

_Of course I’m alright, Coran,_ Keith thinks dryly, but he doesn’t have the energy to be sarcastic. He’s drained from blood loss and adrenaline, and can already feel himself slipping into an involuntary nap.

“Keith?” Hunk says quietly. “You’re looking a bit pale on it. If you need to rest, don’t let us keep you awake.”

They don’t understand though. Keith can’t afford to sleep. Letting his guard down gives whoever’s threatening him a chance to try something. But Keith cannot deny that he is exhausted. Even if he doesn’t want to sleep, his body is not going to give him much of a choice. Between the medication, the loss of blood, and the exhaustion he was already dealing with, Keith can feel sleep overtaking him.

Kosmo is there. Coran and Hunk are his friends. He knows this. He can trust them.

“Just sleep,” Hunk says kindly, and it’s enough for Keith’s brain to allow the sleep take take him.

Clutching the blanket a little tighter, Keith lets his eyes closed and is asleep before he can have second thoughts.

 

Shiro marches away from Iverson’s office almost scowling. He only knows as much judging by the way cadets’ eyes widen at the sight of him and how even the junior officers are quick to get out of his way.

_“We’ll keep an eye out, but we can’t go around making baseless accusations without any solid evidence.”_

Somehow Iverson’s response angers him more than it should. Keith could’ve been killed today and Iverson’s so-called plan to watch out for Keith involves no more than basic surveillance? They need to be actively out looking for this person.

Keith’s been threatened multiple times now. Outside just now, they were there waiting for him. They’d been in position waiting for him. Maybe the person behind the rifle was an ametuer, but even an ametuer shot could’ve ended up being lethal. Shiro would’ve preferred it hit him if that was the case. He doesn’t think it is, though.

There’s no way Shiro is okay with just sitting around _watching_ and waiting for something else to come about. The next time it happens could be the last time it happens.

“Shiro!”

Shiro is pulled out of his thoughts as he sees Lance running towards him, followed by Allura and Romelle. None of them look all that excited, and Shiro knows before they say anything that their search did not go over well.

“What did Iverson say?” Lance asks when he catches up to Shiro.

“Nothing much,” Shiro sighs. “He says we’ll just have to keep an eye on Keith for now, and that we can’t really do anything until we have evidence.” He looks from Lance to Allura and Romelle. “Were you able to find anything?”

They all looked rather defeated. “We found nothing out of the ordinary,” Allura sighs.

“Not a thing,” Lance adds. “Not a dropped wrapper, not a dropped bullet, nothing.”

“That’s okay,” Shiro sighs. “I’m not surprised. I don’t think whoever is doing this wants to be caught.”

As if in answer, Lance’s stomach grumbles. Romelle giggles and Lance looks embarrassed. Shiro realizes that they haven’t had the chance to eat breakfast yet, having everything happen so early this morning.

“You guys should go get something to eat,” Shiro tells them. “There’s nothing we can do in this moment except keep an eye on Keith, and I’m on my way to see him now. Go ahead and get some food. I’ll send Hunk and Coran down as well. We can get in touch later and decide where to go from here.”

“Alright,” Allura replies, placing her hand on Shiro’s arm. “Make sure you take care of yourself as well, Shiro. We will all need to be in our best shape to help Keith through this.”

Shiro offers her a smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Shiro waves goodbye to them, watching them walk away until they disappear, as if to make sure they actually go to the cafeteria. Shiro takes a deep breath to calm himself, and continues on his way to Keith’s hospital room.

He’s not sure whether he’s relieved or worried when he gets there and finds Keith asleep. While it’s good to see him resting, Keith’s face is drained of colour and he’s letting himself sleep in full view of Hunk and Coran. Keith is never able to sleep with people watching him...not unless his body doesn’t give him the choice.

“Ah, Shiro,” Coran says, his voice hushed. “He just fell asleep about fifteen dobashes ago.”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “How’d it go with Iverson? I take it not as well as you’d hoped?”

Shiro grimaces. “The Garrison has always been too slow to act. Unless there’s protocol to follow, that is. I doubt they have any protocol in place for what to do if a person of important position and of shared lineage to recent planet invaders happens to receive escalating death threats from an unknown member of their own - ”

“Shiro,” Hunk interrupts. “It’s okay. We don’t have to rely on the Garrison for this anyway. We’ll find out who’s doing this, and we can do the old way - as a team. As Voltron. We’ll make sure they don’t get to Keith.”

Shiro stares at Hunk a moment, taking in his words. Hunk smiles at him, and Shiro can’t help but to return it. He knows that Hunk is right. The Garrison might not be of much help to them right now, but they’d faced many dangers together as team Voltron, and they’ve always made it through together.

“Thanks,” Shiro sighs. “You’re right. Keith has us.”

Hunk nods. “No one messes with Voltron.”

Shiro chuckles. “You two can head down and get some breakfast. I’m sure you’re hungry. I will sit here with Keith.”

“We can bring you back something, if you like,” Coran suggests.

“I’m all right,” Shiro says automatically. “I’m not hungry.”

Hunk and Coran take their leave, Coran patting him on the shoulder as he walks by. “We’ll be back up in a bit to check on you both,” he says.

“Thank you both for sitting with him,” Shiro tells them.

“Anytime,” Hunk replies with a wave, and he and Coran leave Shiro alone with a sleeping Keith and still alert Kosmo.

As the door closes, Shiro sighs. Kosmo watches him for a bit and the looks away, dropping his head back down onto his paws. Shiro sits down in the chair beside the bed, brow creased. He watches Keith’s chest rise and fall, the rhythm helping calm himself a bit.

Shiro can’t help but to still see the young kid he first met all those years ago. A lot has changed since then, and both Keith and Shiro have changed. But Shiro hasn’t lost that desire to want to help Keith. He’d felt it from the moment he first met him.

But this was different. This wasn’t about giving Keith a chance to make something of himself. Someone out there is actively trying to hurt him, even kill him. Shiro can’t understand it. If anyone took two seconds to actually get to know Keith, they would see he was incapable of ever hurting anyone the way Sendak had.

If the threats continue to escalate, then Voltron will have to take whatever measures they need to in order to ensure Keith’s safety. The MFE pilots have been on missions with Paladins before too, so they could ask them to help even if it’s just in keeping an eye out for anything suspicious that might be going on around campus.

_But what if it’s one of the MFE pilots?_ argues a part of Shiro’s mind. _James Griffin has held some decent animosity towards Keith in the past. There mightn’t have been any drama up until now, but now that the threat of Sendak is out of the way, there’s more freedom to move around doing as one pleases…_

Shiro hastily pulls himself out of that mindset. It won’t do any good laying blame. For what it’s worth, narrowing his eyes at one person might only blind him to another - if that other person happens to be the one he should have his eyes open for, then Shiro’s already lost the game before they start.

Like a judge in court, Voltron can’t be biased. They can’t go presuming either, not until more information is in. Until it is, the best they can do is do their best to make sure that Keith remains safe.

That resolution is all well and good until Shiro spots the white slip of paper poking out from beneath Keith’s pillow. It’s not a doctor’s slip.

Heart dropping, Shiro reaches over and carefully pries the paper out from where it had been tucked. The action tugs on the pillow and Keith stirs with a tired groan.

“Shiro,” Keith groans tiredly, squinting at him.

“Sorry,” Shiro apologizes. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I just saw….”

Shiro’s voice trails off as he opens the note and reads it. Keith notices the piece of paper in Shiro’s hand and watches as Shiro reads.

_'NEXT TIME WE WON’T MISS'_

Shiro’s heart drops even further. He stares at the note as if he can’t believe it. Someone wrote this. Someone involved in this threat against Keith. Someone was in here with Keith _right under their noses_ -

The shock must have shown on Shiro’s face. Before he could think to hide the note from Keith, Keith pulls the paper right out from Shiro’s hand. He reads it, his hand gripping the paper tightly. His eyes meet Shiro’s, and although neither of them speak, no words are needed.

Whoever is plotting against Keith is dangerously close, and is already planning to stop threatening and start acting.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back...with words....we hope you enjoy these words <3

Shiro stands by himself, coffee cup in hand, staring blankly out the window in front of him. He’d just gotten out of the team meeting following the note found in Keith’s hospital room. They were going to move Keith back to his own bedroom and be keeping around the clock watch on him, Kosmo included. For now Shiro wanted only members of team Voltron keeping watch on Keith, because at this point pretty much everyone was suspect. There had to be more than one person in on this crazy scheme, and they were integrated well into life at the Garrison. Keith’s food had been poisoned, he’d been shot at in plain daylight and now someone had been able to get into his hospital room.

Sam was looking into see what kind of security footage, if any, they could find around Keith’s room, as well as a list of medical staff working. But unless someone saw something and was willing to talk, or some camera footage showed up, Shiro doubted they would find out who left the note. Keith hadn’t remembered anyone leaving it there, which wasn’t surprising given he’d been shot. But it just left them with more questions and no answers.

Shiro sighs, exhausted by his racing thoughts. It was hard to believe it hadn’t even been a full twelve hours since Shiro saw Keith in the cafeteria. The sun was setting on the Garrison now, casting the desert in golden light. Normally Shiro would enjoy the sunset, but today he couldn’t. He was torn between his worry of Keith’s safety, his frustration at not knowing who was doing it, and his own guilt and not knowing what was going on sooner.

When Shiro had first met Keith all those years ago, he had vowed to both Keith and himself to help Keith, and to never give up on him. Shiro had seen Keith’s potential, and he could see that all Keith had needed was someone to believe in him and support him. But then what had Shiro done? Left him, over and over. And yet Keith had never given up on him, and had never stopped fighting for him. Keith was the whole reason Shiro was even alive.

The guilt weighed heavy in Shiro’s heart. He’d been so wrapped up in everything going on at the Garrison, with the Atlas and his position as Captain. He’d been so stuck in his work that he had failed to see that Keith was not alright. After everything that Keith had been through in his life, on top of everything that Shiro had put him through, not to mention their fight at the cloning facility….

Shiro squeezes his coffee a bit too hard, making the lid pop off and the coffee spill over his hand. He curses to himself, bending down to pick up the fallen lid. “Shiro?” a voice says, and Shiro looks up to see Coran looking at him. “Everything alright?”

Shiro sighs heavily. Everything was definitely not all right. Shiro isn’t quite sure what to say and he straightens up and put the lid back on his coffee. Coran seems to understand though, and pats his shoulder sympathetically.

“Lance, Hunk and Pidge are up with Keith now,” Coran reports. “He’s about to be discharged. Krolia should be here soon as well, just heard from her. Did you still want to check over Keith’s room with me before we move him in there?”

Shiro takes a deep, calming breath, trying to clear his head the best he can. He doesn’t have time to be lost in his own guilt and worries. “Yeah, we can go now.”

“Shiro.” Coran’s hand is still on his shoulder. “Keith will be alright. Whoever is doing this cannot hide forever. They are being quite daring, after all. I’m sure they’ll be caught in no time, and until then, Keith will be safe with us.”

Shiro tries to smile, but it doesn’t really work. He appreciates Coran’s optimism, but until the person or people behind these attacks are actually caught, Shiro knows he will not rest. “Thanks, Coran,” he says anyway. “Let’s go before he’s discharged.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith sits, focusing on stroking Kosmo’s fur, trying to tune out the voices of Pidge, Hunk and Lance. The three of them are going back and forth with ideas of who could be sending Keith all the threats, but Keith is too tired and overwhelmed to listen. He doesn’t even really care in that moment who the notes are coming from. He’s just tired of all of it. Tired of people harassing him, and already tired of his friends’ constant presence.

He wishes he hadn’t told Shiro. This is all too much. He’d have thought that it would help not being alone in this, but he feels even worse now that everyone knew because now everyone is worried. Everyone is taking time out of their day and their projects and work to sit here and babysit him.

Maybe whoever was sending the notes wasn’t all that serious. Sure, there was the food and the bullet….but maybe that will be it. Maybe they didn’t actually want to kill him.

What if he’s just wasting everyone’s time? Keith’s a paladin. He’s the leader of Voltron. Member of the Blades. He should be better than this. He shouldn’t need others watching over him.

“Keith?”

Keith is so zoned out in his own thoughts and the building feeling of shame that it takes Pidge waving her hand in front of his face to get his attention. Coran has joined them in the room, apparently, and everyone is looking at him.

“Sorry,” Keith mutters, looking away from them all.

“They said you are clear to leave, though you’ll need to rest - in bed,” Coran tells him, raising an eyebrow. “And you’re not to use the arm at all as well. I’m assuming they decided to put your arm in a sling for a -”

“Okay, okay,” Keith says, not really caring. “Can we go now? Are you all walking me to my room?”

“No, actually we thought it might be safer is Kosmo transports you directly to your room. Shiro is there waiting, and the two of us already checked the room for any- surprises. Allura’s on watch outside the room, so all should be safe.” Coran sighs. “The four of us will head down there after you, and we’ll all take turns keeping watch in the area. Shiro can talk to you about it once you are there.”

The space wolf looks at Keith, tilting his head in question. Keith sighs. Returning to his room will give him a small comfort, as he really doesn’t want to be in the hospital room any longer. He gives Kosmo a nod, and he already knows that Kosmo understands. With a flash, the hospital room disappears, and Keith and Kosmo land softly on Keith’s bed.

Shiro, who’d been sitting at the end of the bed, jumps up in alarm, but calms slightly at the sight of them. Keith can tell just by looking at Shiro how stressed he is. He sees it in the lines on Shiro’s face, in the forced smile.

“Hey,” Shiro says, and even his voice gives away his worry. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Keith mutters automatically, leaning back into his pillows and getting as comfortable as he can. He’s so tired that he doesn’t even want to talk to Shiro at the moment. Seeing the worry on Shiro’s face is only making Keith feel even worse.

Shiro sighs and sits back down. “I know all of this is a lot,” Shiro tells him, looking down at his feet. “But I - _we_ \- just want you to be safe.”

“I know,” Keith says, keeping his eyes on Kosmo.

Shiro is quiet for a couple of minutes. “Krolia is on her way. She should be here any time now.”

_Great, another person who stopped what they were doing to run to my side for no good reason._

“Are you hungry? I can get you some food. It might be safer if we make food ourselves for now -”

“I’m not hungry.”

Shiro falls quiet. Keith wonders how long Shiro’s going to stay in there with him. He feels bad for snapping at Shiro, but at the same time he just really wants to be alone. A couple minutes pass and there’s a knock at the door.

“It’s me!” Coran calls through the door, but Shiro’s already in defense mode, as if someone was mimicking Coran’s voice. The door opens and it is indeed Coran, Allura and Romelle peeking in from behind him. “I have Lance, Pidge and Hunk patrolling the neighboring halls for now. I’m going to go out and wait for Krolia. I’ll fill her in on what’s happening.”

“Thank you, Coran,” Shiro says. He sounds tired too.

“No problem!”

“You should go, too,” Keith says as Coran takes his leave.

Shiro turns and looks at him, looking worried - almost hurt.

Keith tries to ignore it. “I’m really tired. Kosmo’s with me and you all are guarding the door and halls and whatever. I’ll be fine.”

“Keith,” Shiro starts, but apparently he doesn’t know what to say. He sighs and stands up. “You’re right, you need your rest. I’ll… I’ll just be outside with Allura, then. You can call for me, though. If you need anything at all.”

Their eyes meet. Keith knows Shiro, and Shiro knows Keith. Keith can see the worry, the frustration, and sadness in Shiro’s eyes. Shiro can probably see the guilt and embarrassment in Keith’s. For a moment, it looks as though Shiro wants to pull him into a hug; perhaps he thinks twice, due to Keith’s injury, and instead grabs Keith’s hand and squeezes it. Keith feels his throat burn, and he knows if Shiro doesn’t leave soon, Keith’s going to cave into his emotions, so he turns his face away and says nothing.

Shiro sighs. “Just call for us,” he says, and Keith hears him leave in the same direction as Coran.

The doors close behind him. Finally, Keith is alone.

Keith lets the emotion take hold of him then. He hates this. He hates all of it. Angry tears spill down his face. He hates that everyone is going out of their way for him. He hates that he couldn’t deal with this himself. He hates that somehow, he always seems to mess things up, and in the frustration of it all he’s reverted back to relying on his anger to carry him through the mess.

He also hates that he wants Shiro with him, because if he’s honest with himself, he is afraid. He’s afraid and he’s tired and his shoulder hurts and he just doesn’t want to have to deal with any of it.

“I’m fine,” he tells the world with a grumble, though both he and Kosmo know he’s lying.

Keith’s been trying to deal with this all alone and while he was, he was able to convince himself he was fine. Now everyone is involved and it just feels like a bigger mess. What if Shiro, or Lance or any of the others end up getting hurt? What if they try to protect Keith and just end up getting killed?

Keith tries to push the thought out of his head, but it won’t go away. His room suddenly feels too small and he wants fresh air. Kosmo watches him. There’s no way they are going to let him leave. Shiro probably won’t even let him outside while the threat of snipers exist.

But Keith knows how to defend himself. He eyes his Blade of Marmora knife, lying sheathed on the bed next to him where Sam had said he’d put it for him. Keith lays his hand on the hilt, fingers curling around the grip.

He’s not as defenceless as the others are making him out to be. His arm might be in a sling, but it doesn’t have to be, and if the need to remove it and risk tearing the wound arises, then he’ll do just that.

Kosmo whines. Keith blinks, a small smirk creeping onto his face. The others might be guarding the door, but they clearly forgot about their teleporting wolf friend.

“Hey,” Keith whispers, trying to sound more okay than he is. “What do you say we get some fresh air?”

Kosmo tilts his head, as if to challenge him.

“We’ll be fine,” Keith assures him. “I’ll have you with me, after all. Just a couple minutes. I just need to breathe a bit.”

Kosmo studies him, looking at bit unsure. Keith holds his gaze, and finally the wolf gives in. With a flash, they disappear.  

They materialise outside, fresh night air slamming into them. Keith draws in a deep breath and opens his eyes to a sky clear of clouds and reassuring quiet. There’s activity in the form of night patrols happening down below, but up here on the rooftop it’s just Keith and Kosmo with no one to restrict their space.

He gets that his friends are doing this for his safety, he does, but it’s too much for him to handle. Keith would be better off going back home – back to the place he lived out that year in the desert in total seclusion – than letting himself be watched and guarded by other people 24/7. He’s managed on his own before; he can do it again.

Maybe it’s true he’s better off with their support than trying to handle it alone like he’d wanted to. He appreciates them. He appreciates they care and that they’re doing something about this situation that really only directly involves Keith. Shiro had said that what affects him affects the whole team. Shiro’s right, but Keith wishes they didn’t have to get dragged into this as well.

Keith sighs. Down on the tarmac, he can see shapes moving away from a familiar design of alien ship. The light emanating from his Blade knife glows stronger. One of those shapes is Krolia, without a doubt. Another is likely to be Kolivan, unless there are matters of greater importance to attend to away from Earth. Keith can see the teal glow of Shiro’s arm walking with them, and a figure who, judging by the extravagant gesturing, is Coran.

As he watches them head towards the Garrison doors, something stabs him in the neck. Keith grumbles. “Stupid mozzies,” he mutters, and goes to slap at it, only for his blood to run cold when his fingers come into contact with something that is most definitely not a mosquito.

It’s a tranquiliser dart.

Another hits Kosmo a split second after that thought occurs to him.

Keith slices his blade through the material keeping his arm in a sling and whirls around, heart beating fast. He barely has enough time to yank the dart out of his neck before another comes flying in his direction. It hits Kosmo instead, earning a high-pitched yelp that echoes in his ears, and Keith doesn’t hesitate to change his knife into a sword.

Exhaustion and blood loss have him stumbling through movements that usually would be flowing. Whatever’s in the tranquilising concoction, it’s inhibited Kosmo’s ability to teleport, and so they’re left to fight their way out in hand-to-hand combat. They’ve been ambushed, Keith quickly realises when multiple shapes emerge from the shadows. If the moon had been out, maybe he’d have noticed them.

_If I hadn’t automatically assumed that the rooftop would be safe –_

The drug is acting too fast. Someone throws a punch and it hits him square on his right shoulder. The wound tears and he grits his teeth against a yell. A knee to the stomach and he’s sent stumbling backwards, tripping over Kosmo and watching the ground rush up to meet him.

He should’ve yelled while he had the chance, but it’s been ingrained in him to handle pain silently. Expressing hurt is not a luxury any Blade of Marmora agent gets and the inability to keep quiet through the pain is a hazard. But now – right now, when his muscles are seizing up and his vision’s blurring – he realises should’ve thought about the consequences of not making an exception to that rule.

Beside him, Kosmo’s struggling to get his feet, but keeps collapsing. Keith rolls out of the way of hands reaching out to grab him. A kick lands on his shoulder – right on the wound like they _know_ – and this time Keith does scream. It’s muffled though, a hand clamping down over his mouth before the noise can travel. Kosmo must try to get the person away, but the person’s weight shifts and the wolf lets out a strained yelp.

Blood soaks through the bandages, through Keith’s shirt. He tries to throw the person off but finds he can’t. His movements are uncoordinated and sloppy. Strangley enough, though his vision’s so blurred and it’s so dark outside it’s hard to see anything, he’s aware. Pain stabs him in the shoulder with each heartbeat. He can hear Kosmo’s claws scrabbling to pull himself upright, but it seems he’s having the same trouble getting his limbs to move as Keith.

It dawns on him then just how much trouble they’re in. They should’ve stayed in Keith’s room, or at least _told_ someone they were coming up here. Keith curses himself for not thinking properly. Part of that’s due to blood loss and exhaustion, sure, but he’s still responsible for deciding to sneak away.

The person above him doesn’t remove their hand from Keith’s face. Keith grimaces, face contorting as the drug spreads throughout his body, fingers and cheek twitching, muscles contracting and relaxing and losing feeling altogether. A twinge in his chest pulls at the open wound on his shoulder and Keith groans.

“Thought you were meant to be better than this, _Paladin,_ ” the person murmurs. Keith can hear the smirk in their tone. “Don’t worry, we’ll get someone better to lead instead, eh? How does that sound?”

Pain slices across chest. Keith clenches his teeth and cries out, involuntarily. He can’t move. He can’t move away from it. He knows Kosmo’s really close. If only Kosmo could teleport still, then –

A flash of metal. _Luxite,_ Keith realises in horror, and braces himself for the pain but the next strike doesn’t come. The person pauses, stiffening, thinking, and then mumbling something in frustration about not leaving evidence somewhere where it’s easily found, releases him. The hands are on him again and then he’s being dragged across the concrete by the armpits, past Kosmo lying on the ground still struggling against the paralysis, past the discarded sling, all the way over to a generator room. Keith’s dragged behind it, into the shadows, behind a cabinet that is the generator room’s local control panel, and then he’s dropped.

The ringing in his ears isn’t the hum of the generator. The darkness edging his vision isn’t the darkness of the night. Keith shouts at his mind to get his body to move but it won’t listen. The person drags the luxite blade down his forearm and his body doesn’t even flinch. Keith’s eyes close at some point and don’t reopen, but he’s still aware and the person knows this. He can feel the triumph in the energy swirling around him – triumph meaning they’re finally accomplishing what they set out for.

_‘GALRA we will kill you like you killed our families’_

_'NEXT TIME WE WON’T MISS'_

Keith’s done for.

He’s knifed a couple more times, across his thigh and slashed across his abdomen, and then the knife clatters to the ground beside him. Pain stabs him with every beat of his heart, not just in his shoulder this time, although that is the worst of the wounds. He can feel his pulse accelerating with with blood loss. Where before he felt like he could at least try to fight the paralysis drug, now all Keith feels is weakness taking a hold of him.

The person’s talking now, but he’s finding it harder to concentrate on the words. _Not so aware now,_ he thinks wryly. “We watched our families bleed out before our eyes,” they’re saying. “Couldn’t do anything…..fault…. _Galra…._ to pay….fair, right?”

Pain erupts in his ribs. The only sound Keith’s able to make is a strangled whimper. His ribs throb.

“..find you….’fore you bleed out…”

The person’s footsteps walk away. Keith thinks of Kosmo lying helpless out there and fear grips him at the thought, but he’s not sure if anything happens. There’s no noise from Kosmo, no noise from the person but a hiss, but Keith’s not sure what to make of it. His mind wonders if maybe Kosmo was able to teleport away, but then maybe not, if he’d been shot with tranquiliser darts twice, which means….

Keith’s unable to finish that thought, his mind slipping into unconsciousness. He tries to fight it, but he’s dizzy and confused and cold, the pain that’s throbbing and stabbing and shooting through his body is making it hard to remember _why_ he needs to fight it.

His head grows heavy and fuzzy, and that’s the last thing he’s aware of before unconsciousness claims him.

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro and Krolia walk side by side down the halls of the Garrison. Krolia is angry, and Shiro can tell without her having to say anything. He doesn’t blame her; he’s angry, too. Perhaps she’s even feeling some of her own guilt, due to being Galra. When she got off the ship and demanded to know the details of what was going on, Shiro had told her and Kolivan everything as quickly and as detailed as he could. A look had passed Krolia’s face when Shiro mentioned that these people had been targeting Keith due to his Galra blood. It just makes Shiro more frustrated, to think of all the good that Krolia and the Blades have done and are doing, and yet how some people will never recognize their hard word due to what they look like.

Kolivan had gone off with Coran, wanting to know more about the security at the Garrison, and probably wanting to see if he could gather any information himself. Shiro also assumes he wants to give Krolia a few moments alone with her son, her pain and frustration clear on her face.

“Allura and Romelle are outside Keith’s room,” Shiro explains to Krolia as they get closer. “Right now the other Paladins are keeping an eye out in the area, trying to see if they can catch anyone looking out of the ordinary. Kosmo is in there with Keith, but….he wanted to be alone after he got back to his room. I think all the protection is a little much for him.”

“Of course it is,” Krolia says, with a small smile that didn’t match her eyes. “He is a Blade after all, and he is Keith.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you, though,” Shiro adds. “I let him know that you were on your way. He didn’t say anything, but I know you being here means a lot to him.”

Krolia nods but doesn’t reply. They reach Keith’s door, Allura and Romelle both standing watch. Both of them were looking rather tired.

“All good?” Shiro asks, and they both nodded.

“He’s been quiet since you left,” Allura says. “We haven’t bothered him at all- I figured it might upset him, and I know he needs rest.”

“Thanks for keeping an eye out here,” Shiro tells them. “I can stand watch for a while if you need a break. Get some food and relax a bit.” He turns to Krolia. “Are you ready to go in?”

Krolia nods. Shiro knocks on the door; Keith doesn’t answer, but he’s not surprised. “Keith, Krolia is here,” Shiro announces. “I’m going to let her in to see you.”

Still no reply. Shiro opens the door, Krolia next to him. It takes him a second to register the fact that the room is empty.

“Where is he?” Krolia demands, as Shiro stares blankly.

_Kosmo. Keith probably had Kosmo teleport him -_

“He’s not there?” Shiro hears Allura ask worriedly, as Shiro stares at the empty bed, trying to think. However, his thoughts are interrupted as Kosmo teleports into the middle of the room with a flash and a whimper.

Everyone turns to look. It’s apparent immediately that something is wrong with the wolf; his legs are trembling and it seems like he’s having difficulty moving at all. Keith is not with him, either. Shiro’s heart is already beating wildly in his chest when Kosmo drops something on the floor. The fear grips Shiro’s whole body.

It’s Keith’s knife, covered in blood, the knife flickering weakly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'mozzie' = mosquito


	4. Chapter 4

The whole world slows, but it slows too much. Before Shiro can get his brain into gear, Krolia’s pried the bloody knife from Kosmo’s jaws and Romelle’s at the space wolf’s side supporting him.

 _No_ , Shiro realises, _she’s also trying to get Kosmo to teleport her and Krolia to wherever Keith is._

But Kosmo’s barely standing and it looks like that last teleport into the room was all he could manage. And since no one has a telepathic communication with the wolf like Allura does with the space mice, finding Keith is going to be that much more difficult. It’s not like Kosmo knows the layout of the Garrison.

Wrong. With a noise that is a cross between a whimper, a growl and a whine, Kosmo pushes past everyone and ducks out the door. He’s shaking all over, but once he’s in the hallway he takes a hard left and steps into a trot.

Krolia, Romelle and Shiro are quick to follow. Allura taps Shiro on the shoulder as he passes through the doorway, her eyes full of ice. “I’ll go find the other three.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspiscious!” Krolia yells over her shoulder.

Any words Shiro could think of to say are lost in his throat. He nods at Allura, cold sweat forming on his back, and forces himself into a sprint after Krolia, Kosmo and Romelle.

He can’t believe it. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling in the ugly mess of emotions that are hiding behind his fear. Shiro feels like he should be angry that Keith would be so stubborn and stupid so as to remove himself from everyone’s protection like that, that he would act so selfishly. But if Shiro were the one being so heavily guarded and treated like someone unable to fend for themselves, he’d be losing his mind as well. While they only want to ensure that this unknown threat doesn’t get to Keith, they went the wrong way about it, it seems, imposing on Keith’s personal space to the point that he inadvertently – that _they_ inadvertently – forced Keith right into the hands of the anonymity waiting for him.

If there’s anyone Shiro ought to be angry at, it’s himself. He’s trying his best not to imagine what that guilt is going to feel like if Keith doesn’t make it.

 _Don’t think like that!_ he scolds himself. But it’s hard not to, especially with how tight a grip Krolia has on the hilt of knife, her own fingers now with her son’s blood on them and the insignia set in the blade intermittently lighting up and casting that blood in a blue light. It’s eerie, that blue light on the blood of the knife while under the orange-tinted lights of the Garrison hallways, but if stops being eerie then their urgency becomes one step above dire and nobody wants that. The only person or people who do are the ones who stained Keith’s knife with his own blood in the first place.

Kosmo leads the right to the end of the hallway and stops in front the emergency doors. Shiro stares at the wolf as he paws the ground in front of the door, wondering if maybe he doesn’t know where he’s going after all, but then Krolia rams the heavy door open and they’re running outside onto the tarmac.

“Shiro, we’re going to find him,” Romelle says, falling back to run in pace with him. Her voice is shaky. “We’ll find him.”

Unable to answer, Shiro just stares at her for a moment. He doesn’t get why he’s finding it so hard to think. He’s been a captain and a team leader in life-or-death situations before, situations that have called for a state of calm in the midst of adrenaline and fear, and situations that have asked him to set aside his own state of mind for the sake of assuring and leading everyone else.

So why is he finding it so hard to even think simple things like opening a door for the weakened space wolf leading them?

It’s like a few months ago all over again. When the Lions fell from the sky, Black crash-landing the closest to the Garrison, and Shiro lost all ability to think. According to the radar, all Lions had fallen to a place where their elemental associations were – Blue to the sea, Green to a forest, Yellow to the earth, Red to the earth but likely a lessened impact due to the heating up in the atmosphere. But then there was Black…

Keith had had the worst injuries. Shiro had pulled him from Black himself, and that thoughtless, adrenaline-washed state is what takes over his body now. Vaguely, Shiro recognises it as similar to dissociation, as though he’s already in the process of mentally preparing for if Keith doesn’t make it, if he doesn’t pull through, if it’s too late and the only thing left for Shiro to do is to learn to live in the world where Keith now isn’t.

“Up there?”

Shiro blinks and just stops himself from crashing into Krolia, who’s following Kosmo’s gaze up to the rooftop. Romelle squints hard and Shiro does too, but they can’t see any person standing up there. That can only mean one thing: the fight was already over when Kosmo came to alert them, and if it were already over, then Keith had to have already been in too bad a state to be able to make it to help himself. As if the blood drying on the knife isn’t proof enough of that already.

Krolia narrows her eyes, mouth in a tight line. “Shiro. You know the way to the roof?”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Shiro nods. He turns and runs back the way they came, off the tarmac and back into the Garrison hallway. Krolia follows directly behind him, Romelle bringing up the rear to keep an eye on a slowing Kosmo.

Keith’s knife flickers.

 

* * *

 

 

With a groan, Lance steps down off the flight of stairs and wanders out into the hallway. “I can’t decide if these guys are serious or if they’re just being plain annoying.”

“What do you mean?” Hunk says, frowning. “Of course they’re serious. They’ve been sending death threats and they shot Keith. Not to mention that food poisoning incident.”

“No, I mean… it’s like they’re toying with us on purpose and having fun doing it. Are they doing this just to get us paranoid? Or like, so they can have fun stressing Keith out?”

“You really think threats is all it’s going to come to? I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t like where this is heading. Remember how there were all these little signs that Haggar had that creepy mind control thing going in Shiro’s head? We didn’t even know he wasn’t the Shiro we thought he was until BOOM!, he attacked us and set a kill protocol thing on the Castle. This situation right now, with all the little threats and whatnot directed at Keith? Yeah, the feeling I’ve been getting from this situation is like that.”

“So yeah,” Lance mutters. “We really need to find them. It’s just annoying that we can’t find any trace of them besides the notes. I get that they’re trying not to get caught, but you’d think we would’ve found someone by now.”

Pidge lets the stairway door close with a loud thump behind them. “When I was over at the security and surveillance room just now, I found footage of the person who shot him but they had their face covered. There was nothing amiss with the security feeds, or so I thought.” She taps her foot. “They were unable to do anything about the footage of the doctors coming in and out of Keith’s medical room, but when I had a look to see who put the note that first note in Keith’s room, I couldn’t find anything. If Keith had told us about the threats, before he got shot at there would have been no evidence to say that someone was actually threatening him. If we’d argued it, they’d have instead tried to point fingers at Keith saying that he was making it all up.”

Hunk exchanges a confused glance with Lance. He hold his hands up. “Uh… I’m lost.”

“Sorry, thinking out loud to myself. Basically, it means that whoever’s in charge of all this is someone with enough power to pull rank and have every trace of their coming and going covered up.”

“So you reckon there’s one person pulling the strings?” Lance asks.

Pidge nods. “Yeah, and one of the higher-ups.”

“Like Admiral Sanda, or someone with the kind of perspective she had? People agreed with her, right? So there’s got to be a bunch of people who share the Keith-hate that’s behind this.”

“Or…it could be a bunch of people working together to pull it off,” Hunk says. “Think about it – it’s like they all got together and pitched in each other’s ideas. An incident in the kitchen, a note that made it into Keith’s room and another note that made it into the medical wing undetected, a rifleman. A rifleman person, that is. Not the bird.”

Pidge grimaces. “It’s frustrating. They keep evading us and taking shots at Keith, and even if we were to find one person involved, there’s still the entire group to get.”

“So we just have to find the ringleader, right? Presuming there is one?”

“The attacks are too well organised. There likely is.”

With a loud yawn, Lance stretches. “Argh, this is doing my head in. I need to pee.”

“Go pee then,” Pidge mutters.

“I think I will. I’ll be back.”

It’s wearing them out, all this. Lance can’t imagine how much it’s wearing Keith out. When he’d seen him earlier, Keith had looked like he’d just come away from a bout of fighting on the Castle’s training deck, but one of his training sessions that failed to lift whatever spirits he’d fallen into. Simply put, he also looked fed up with everyone’s attention and Lance can’t help but for mildly frustrated on his behalf.

There’s another person in the bathroom when Lance gets there. He absent-mindedly nods a greeting as the person catches his eye in the mirror, the action of which is quickly - too quickly – dismissed and met with a scowl instead.

Lance hesitates, his gut telling him something’s not right. “You alright there, man?”

“Oh yeah, all good here,” the guy murmurs. “Thanks.”

There’s a slim rifle leaning up against the vanity beside the guy. Lance glances between the second year cadet and the ordinary looking, not-that-ordinary gun. “Good training session?”

The cadet’s brow furrows and he continues to ignore Lance as though he’s not a Paladin and of higher rank. “Yeah.”

Something off catches Lance’s eye then. The whole scene has been becoming increasingly off the more he lingers. There’s blood staining the basin pink and the guy is scrubbing it off his hands. Ordinarily, Lance would’ve been highly concerned and have been thinking about calling a nurse. Right now, it’s an overwhelming and sinking suspicion that has his attention, and it’s not a nurse who Lance is thinking of calling.

Peeing can wait.

“You sure you’re alright?” Lance asks, aware of the hard edge to his tone.

The cadet glares at him in the mirror, failing at masking his expression. There’s a flash of worry in his eyes and he hunches over his hands a little more.

“Can I ask you something? That’s not your blood, is it?”

It clicks then. What type of gun this guy has recently used. The blood on his hands and his desperation to erase the evidence of it. His behaviour and interaction with Lance. If Lance is wrong about this and it turns out that this guy is actually innocent and has a sensitive health problem, then what Lance is about to regret what he’s about to do. Looking directly into the cadet’s eyes, however, Lance knows that’s not going to be the case.

He lets out a disbelieving grunt, then raises his voice so that Pidge and Hunk, who are waiting just down the hallway, can hear him. “What have you done to Keith?!”

 

* * *

 

 

Up on the roof, it’s quiet. There’s no one up here. Shiro glances over his shoulder at Kosmo, desperate for some kind of hint or direction, but the wolf isn’t behind him. Shiro spots him collapsed on the last landing they rounded, Romelle bent over him and petting his fur.

“We’ll catch up!” Romelle calls when she sees him looking.

Shiro nods and rejoins Krolia in scanning the rooftop.

After Krolia’s keen eyes sweep their surroundings and decide that the physical threat is no longer present, she marches out to the other side of the rooftop near the railing. There’s not much of a moon tonight, but there’s enough outside lighting around the Garrison complex to make out what it is Krolia’s seen.

Krolia only has to glance at Shiro’s expression to know that Keith had been wearing the sling. “It’s been cut,” she says, pointing at the clean cut through the strap of the material. She waves the flickering knife in the air to confirm how. With a small cough to clear her throat, she turns away from the railing. “Keith! Keith, where you are?”

A small stab of horror has Shiro casting a frantic look over the railing at the ground below, but there’s nothing there. _Of course there isn’t. We would’ve seen him when we were out on the tarmac before if he’d fallen._

“Keith!”

Shiro joins her in calling. “Keith!”

A distressed howl echoes up the stairwell as Kosmo calls too.

But there’s no answer. The knife’s flickering is slowing, the time between the dimming growing bright again getting longer and longer. Shiro struggles to control his breathing. They’re running out of time. Romelle hauls Kosmo up the stairs and out onto the roof with them, but Kosmo’s legs won’t hold his weight.

Shiro’s busy scanning the ground for any sign of blood, for any sign of Keith, when Kosmo’s howling and Krolia's calling abruptly cut off. Shiro looks up, adrenaline making his hand shake, to find Krolia and Kosmo staring hard at the generator room control panel cabinet, ears twitching.

Krolia’s expression loses the last of its impassiveness. “ _Keith.”_

Whatever they can hear, Shiro can’t and neither can Romelle, but it’s something Kosmo and Krolia most certainly can. Krolia makes a beeline for the cabinet, ears twitching, face stricken, as she follows what Shiro can assume to be a frequency inaudible to humans and Alteans. When she reaches that far side of the roof though, she veers around the side of the cabinet and disappears into the shadows behind it.

“Shiro! Romelle!”

Shiro’s not ready for the sight but sprints anyways. Romelle leaves Kosmo’s side to run with him, stopping only to pick up something her foot kicks. Shiro almost yells at her in warning not to touch it until he realises what it is. It’s a tranquiliser dart.

Romelle holds the needle end away from herself and hurries over to where Krolia is. “I think he and Kosmo were shot with – oh, _quiznak…_ ”

Kneeling on the ground is Krolia, bent over a blur of black, red and white that – when Shiro’s vision clears – reveals itself to be Keith. He’s lying on his back, motionless, his clothes soaked in blood. It’s started to pool beneath his right elbow from a cut on his forearm. Krolia’s got two fingers pressed against his neck, under his chin, and her face tilted sideways and hovering over his.

“He’s in shock,” she says, pulling away. The knife beside her still flickers, a life monitor. “He’s losing too much blood. These are luxite wounds. He doesn’t have long.”

“Romelle just found a tranquiliser dart,” Shiro murmurs. “That’s probably how they got him…and why Kosmo’s not been looking too good.”

‘Not looking too good’ pales in contrast to what Keith looks like. While Kosmo seems to have gotten away unscathed, there’s wounds scattered over Keith’s body, wounds made easily and deliberately. Shiro wants to be sick. As well as the recently reopened shoulder wound now bleeding freely again, there’s the slash on Keith’s forearm, one on his left thigh, one across his abdomen and another over his chest. There’s also an inflamed pinprick on the side of his neck, almost hidden behind his hair, from what can be immediately assumed to be from the dart.

Krolia tries to wake him, but to no avail. Keith doesn’t give any sign of having registered their presence, even when Krolia takes the knife and cuts and tears his shirt off his body and away from the wounds. Romelle lets out a gasp at the clearer sight of all the wounds, and Shiro swallow hard before the nausea gets the best of him.

Usually he’d be okay with seeing these kinds of injuries. It’s not like he’s never seen a luxite wound or helped patch one up before. But this…

Someone did this to Keith. On purpose. They waited until he was rendered helpless before they did this, and the weapon they used to draw his blood with was his own knife. And all because of what? Hatred? Racism? Because Keith shares blood with the same race of people who decimated so many Earth citizens’ livelihoods not so long ago?

If Keith dies because of something so _immature,_ Shiro’s not sure if he’s going to be able to maintain his calm demeanour. He’s not sure he’ll be able to hold his anger back at all.

“Romelle,” Krolia says, not looking up as she finishes shearing off the fabric covering Keith’s left leg. “You said he might’ve been shot with a tranquiliser?” When Romelle replies confirmingly, she jerks her chin in the direction of where they all came from. “Check to see if there’s any more darts. I need to know how much he’s been drugged.”

Hearing Krolia say it like that sends a chill down Shiro’s spine. As Romelle runs off, he frowns. “Wait, you?”

“I’m doing the stitching.”

“Shouldn’t we call for some of the – ”

Krolia shreds the fabric she just cut from Keith’s trousers with more force than necessary. “No one is to approach my son besides Romelle, Kosmo or Kolivan. You said before that someone slipped one of those death threat notes under Keith’s pillow while he was in medical? I’m not taking any chances.”

Shiro swallows, watching as she cuts up the material into long strips. _Bandages,_ he realises. “And me?”

“I’d rather you do the part of keeping everyone informed and away. You need to rally the Paladins and track down the culprit, or should I say the _culprits_.”

“Okay, understood.”

No words are spoken between them as Krolia bandages the wounds. They don’t have time to wait for someone to fetch a stretcher or medical supplies, but they also can’t risk moving Keith with the luxite wounds left open like this lest he bleed out on the way. Krolia makes quick work of it, and Shiro can see her watching the dimming glow of the knife in her peripheral. It loses light with every few seconds that pass and Krolia’s bandaging becomes hasty and less secure with every wound bound.

But there’s not enough fabric and there’s not enough time. Krolia only manages to bandage the wound on Keith’s thigh, forearm and abdomen before she’s out of material and the dimming light takes a dramatic plunge. Shiro feels the blood drain from his face. He thinks he sees Keith’s throat move, but no sound comes out and his face remains slack.

Krolia curses. “I know, I know.” She sheds her senior blade uniform and deftly wraps him up in it. “Hang in there, Keith. Please.”

“How come you can hear him when he….?” Shiro asks.

“Galra distress call. One made when vocalisation is made impossible.”

“What do you mean…impossible?”

“The drug in the tranquiliser dart has paralysed his whole body. He would’ve been reacting to the pain and possibly our voices if not for it.” She finishes securing the senior blade uniform around the last of Keith’s wounds, the open ones on his chest and shoulder. “Perhaps it’s a good thing they used it on him.”

She picks up the knife, picks up Keith, and then she’s moving.

Romelle almost runs into them with four tranquiliser darts in hand. “Four. There were four. One of them hasn’t been emptied, though.”

“Be careful not to touch it then,” Krolia says curtly, “but bring it with you. We need to find out what they were hit with.”

“The other two used ones I found were lying hidden away in a corner. I think they might be the ones Kosmo was shot with.”

“That would explain why Kosmo lost the ability to teleport. It’s a wonder he was able to teleport at all.”

Shiro hurries ahead of them and pulls the stairway door open wider. Kosmo gets up unsteadily. When Krolia walks past with Keith hanging limply in her arms, Kosmo lets out a long, high-pitched whine.

 _He’s gonna be fine, bud,_ Shiro wants to say to the wolf, but he can’t trust himself to say it with conviction. How does know that Keith’s going to be okay? Keith’s in a critical condition. If he dies, reviving him could be difficult with the drug in his system, not to mention the amount of blood he’s lost and is still losing.

They run down the stairs. The only time Krolia stops moving is to allow Shiro to slip in front of her and open the door to the ground floor for her. After that it’s a race to the medical wing. Krolia’s not even bothering to be careful now. The running jostles Keith a little but she keeps a firm grip on him. The bloody knife is clenched in pale lilac fingers.

The running proves too much for Kosmo. The wolf falls behind and his legs give way beneath him. Romelle skids to a halt beside him and throws a desperate glance between Kosmo and Shiro. Shiro, looking over his shoulder, turns and runs back to her.

“Give me the loaded dart,” he says, chest heaving.

Romelle rearranges her hold on the darts to give Shiro the unused one with shaking hands. “Go. I’ll take Kosmo and find the others.”

Making sure there’s no chance of the needle and the drug ending up in himself, Shiro curls his prosthetic hand around the dart and nods. They part ways without further ado.

By the time Shiro catches up to Krolia again, the knife is barely shining and Krolia’s barking orders at a bewildered and pale-faced Sam Holt. Shiro follows them into an empty operating room. There’s no time for questions or explanations. Sam fetches everything they need to clean, stitch and bandage the wounds. While he’s doing that, Krolia lies Keith down on the operating table and sets about stripping away the makeshift bandages. They both finish doing what they’re doing about the same time.

Shiro shows the dart to Sam. “Whoever hit him had a tranquiliser. They hit Kosmo with the same stuff, too.”

Sam nods, brow furrowed. “Colleen will be able to give us a better idea of what’s in it.” He turns to Krolia. “Krolia, do you – ”

“I want you both out,” Krolia says calmly. “Shiro, find Kolivan and tell him what’s going on.”

“What about security?” Shiro asks. “Romelle’s gone to update the Paladins. Maybe they could stand guard?”

Krolia gives Keith’s wounds a quick clean, gives her hands a quick clean and then snatches up the stitches and needle. She doesn’t spare them a look and she doesn’t have to.

“If anyone dares come here,” she murmurs tightly, “I will deal to them.”

Sam and Shiro don’t argue anymore. They leave her to it.

 

 


End file.
